


Host

by Nununununu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal, Breeding, Cock Fucking, Don't copy to another site, Impregnation, Mpreg, Oral, Other, Plugs, Rape, Sounding, Summoning Circles, Tentacles, Triple Penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:32:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25040179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: He’d always wanted to photograph a cryptid. A monster or an alien, anything – proof that things were out there and were going to get you. He’d just never expected to succeed.He’d just never suspected they’d gethim.
Relationships: Tentacle Monster/Original Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 304
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Host

**Author's Note:**

  * For [citrinesunset](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/gifts).



> A treat for citrinesunset. Your prompts were brilliant, I couldn't resist :)
> 
> (Originally posted 05/07; updated for author reveals)

“No,” Charles stumbles backwards, tripping over the nearest neat pile of occult magazines that won’t fit on his heavily crowded desk, “Oh no. No no no.”

The creature spilling out of the summoning circle he’d never actually expected would work _keeps on coming_. Huge tentacles thrusting out of the glowing hole that’s opened up on his attic room floor where he’s pushed the carpet back, the width of his wrist at the tapered ends, increasing up to the size of his thigh. It’s not going to fit in the room at the rate it’s going; it’s going to break the ceiling and burst through the roof of Charles’ parents’ house and Charles’ parents’ are going to be _so mad_.

He’s supposed to be renting from them now he’s fresh back from uni and lacking the funds to get his own place. He’s supposed to be looking for a job to kickstart his career as a photographer – the attic’s sloping walls are filled with photos he’s taken on his frequent but – until now – fruitless searches for cryptids and whatever else might be out there. The formless shadows on the lovingly developed negatives seem to be mocking him.

The creature bulges, crammed as it is against the sides of the hole where yet more of it strains to shove its way in. Tentacles snatch at his ankle.

“No thanks!” Charles’ back hits the edge of his desk hard, rattling his desktop and gaming computers, “Not today, I, ah – go back to where you came from!” He casts a desperate glance at the attic door – just a few steps away! – and sees a massive eye emerge from the hole.

It’s around the same size as he is. _Fuuuuck_.

“I –” He’s out of here. The eye stares at him. Charles runs.

Or tries to. Tentacles lash out this time, lassoing him around his lower legs and up to his waist, dragging him away from the door before he can reach it. His fingertips, as he lunges for it, _just_ brush the handle.

Then he’s falling, hitting the floor hard, the tentacles dragging him towards the many toothed mouth that opens up beneath that eye – _fuck fuck fuck_ – and Charles is kicking and screaming and losing his glasses somewhere along the way.

“Don’t eat me don’t eat me don’t you dare eat me, _I summoned you here, you bastard_ , fuck!” This last part is due to the fact the creature stops dragging him. Saliva drips down from that gaping open mouth to drip on his socked feet and he cringes. The creature wouldn’t even need to swallow, it’s so much bigger than him.

Charles’ is gaping. He’s also shaking. The creature is staring at him. His breathing is _so loud_ – he can’t figure out how to quiet it. He also can’t figure out why the thing stopped. Or –

Oh yeah.

“I’m your Master, huh?” A tremulous smirk crosses Charles lips. The tentacles wrapped around his waist squeeze and then relax slightly. He tenses. Tries to keep his voice steady, “Let me go, then.”

That great eye keeps right on staring. The mouth remains gaping open, countless sharp teeth the length of his forearm remaining on show.

Two of the tentacles around his waist flip open the top button to his jeans with their tapered tips.

“What the hell,” Charles spasms, back going ramrod straight while his legs kick out in shock, “No you don’t!” Yanking his hands out from the mass of tentacles surrounding them, he goes to wrench the two away from his opened jeans –

And one dives down into his underwear to wrap around his cock.

“What –” The shock of it is so great Charles can barely react as further tentacles work to slide the zip of his jeans down and then drag them along with his underwear down his legs, “What the – what the hell –” His legs are bared, skinny and knobbly kneed, socks pulled up tight over his ankles. Other tentacles spiral around his arms, tug his shirt off – buttons pop, making him jump – and hold his hands behind his back.

His lips feel numb. He’s shaking. He wants to call for his parents, downstairs in the kitchen arguing over dinner with the TV on as loud as it always is. He simultaneously very much _doesn’t_ want to call for them; can’t bear the thought of them seeing him like this. Can’t bear the thought of them seeing this creature he accidentally summoned, one of its countless tentacles holding onto his soft cock.

“What the hell,” His voice cracks on the whisper. He’s left there naked in amongst dozens of tentacles within minutes, staring back at the eye staring at him, unable to process what’s happening. “What the hell; what the fuck."

Then smaller tentacles sprout out from the tip of one of the tapered ones at his stomach, the one around his soft cock lifts it as those surrounding his body arrange him on his back, lying him out so he’s even more on display for that huge eye –

And then the smaller tentacles worm over his stomach, racing down towards his cock, and Charles hollers before he even knows he’s making the noise.

“No, don’t, don’t, don’t,” He doesn’t even know what they’re going to _do_ to him, until those small tentacles are squirming all over his crotch and, _oh god_ , it feels good, he really doesn’t want it to feel good, and it’s horrifying and he feels sick, but his cock is also starting to thicken a bit.

It _can’t_ mean he wants this. He _doesn’t_ want this. Sure, he watched that anime Carlos at uni was watching that time with the girl in it and – oh god, oh god, it fucked her, what if this creature wants to fuck _him_?

The smaller tentacles seem to gain focus, tugging at his foreskin – he’s hard put not to shriek – pulling back just enough so Charles can see exactly what they’re doing –

“Oh shit!”

– As they nudge his foreskin down to reveal the glans and immediately start nosing at his slit.

_Nothing_ has ever touched Charles there before, it’s not even somewhere he likes to touch himself when he gets off. Too intense, too – too much like porn. Carlos teased him while they were watching the anime for being a prude, when Charles hadn’t even said anything. Charles can’t say he agrees – he’s not a fucking prude, damn it, but he knows what he likes and – and –

_The tip of the tentacle feeds itself into his slit –_

And this isn’t it!

“Stop!” Charles is fighting again before he can prevent himself, half out of his mind at the sight of what the creature’s doing and the _feel_ of it – he can _feel_ it wriggling about inside his slit, inside his urethra, can feel it working its way downwards, oh _god_ –

“Stop it, stop it, that’s the wrong hole, oh my fucking god –” His vision swims. The tentacles holding onto his arms only tighten in response to his struggling, others shoving his thighs down, pinning him amongst them on the floor. The small tentacle inside him feels so fucking deep, it must be nearly in his balls.

Oh fuck, what if it carries on? What if it actually goes _into_ his balls?

“No – no –” Charles is starting to feel lightheaded. He’s also so fucking hard it _hurts_. He –

Doesn’t want this. He doesn’t; he doesn’t – but the small tentacle inside his cock draws out so slowly it’s agonising, causing tears of relief to leap into his eyes – until it pushes back in again.

“Noooo please – please –”

Then it starts to fuck his cock.

“ _Hah!_ ” Horrorified arousal claws its way up Charles’ throat. He thinks of the girl in the anime shrieking and screaming and pleading and thinks of how loud his parents always are when they’re getting at each other and how loud the TV is – so they can pretend the neighbours won’t hear – and oh god, what if the neighbours hear _him_?

The small tentacle whips out of his cock, leaving it stinging for a moment, before a slightly thicker one plunges in. Charles shrieks just like that anime girl – and again, when thicker, larger tentacles yank his legs open, and one coated with – with _something_ starts to push its way into his ass.

Is it secreting something?! His slit is bubbling with it. He’s so turned on against his will some of the stuff has to be precome, but – but –

He wishes the tentacle beneath his head would quit propping him up so he didn’t have to see. He wishes his parents would shove the door open and shoot the fucking creature in its fucking eye. He wishes he’d never read that article about summoning circles; never chalked one out on the attic floorboards and spoken what he’d hoped – hoped! – were words with real power.

He’d always wanted to photograph a cryptid. A monster or an alien, anything – proof that things were out there and were going to get you. He’d just never expected to succeed.

He’d just never suspected they’d get _him_.

The tentacle in his ass leaks more liquid – fuck, is it _coming_ in him? It also starts fucking him, out of time with the one in his cock, like it doesn’t even care about him enough to do that much. Why –

Why _would_ it care about him?

“I –” Charles tries, a last ditch attempt at defiance, “I am your Master! I command you to let me go!”

A tentacle stuffs itself into his mouth.

He’s caught there like that then for who knows how long – his eyes hot and his breath rasping hard in his nose, fucked by three tentacles at once as the one in his mouth starts pushing in and out of his throat.

He gags, nearly throws up. The one in his cock pivots and squirms. More and more precome leaks out of the slit together with whatever it is the thing is secreting. His cock aches and aches with the need to come. He hates this he hates this he hates this –

It also feels fucking A-grade _amazing_.

The tentacle in his ass keeps pummelling his prostate, making his whole body jerk, unwelcome pleasure going off inside him each time that feels _so_ fucking intense and _so_ fucking incredible however he doesn’t want it. The one in his cock –

The creature replaces the one in his cock with a thicker one, and then a thicker one again. He can feel his slit stretching with them; his urethra is starting to burn. The slurp and squelch of the liquid the creature keeps producing as it fucks him along with his own precome is intently embarrassing. His ears are burning. Just the sound of it alone makes him want to come even more.

The huge eye is still staring at him. The latest tentacle fucking his straining cock abruptly bulges, as do the ones in his throat and ass.

“Mm – mm –” Fresh horror nearly makes Charles black out. He rather wishes he _would_ black out, but then surely it would eat him. Perhaps it is going to eat him. Perhaps this is what it does with all its food first.

The fucking takes on a new fervour. Orgasm hits Charles like a bludgeon to the stomach, his cock feeling like it shrieks just as much as he does as the tentacle in it prevents the come from making it out except in small splurts. His balls _hurt_.

The tentacles keep fucking him harder and harder. He’s come, he’s come and they need to stop right now, they need to never have started, but they’re just continuing –

There’s another feeling of intense pressure as all three bulge even harder.

Is –

Is the creature going to come in him? Is it going to _lay eggs_ in him like the one in that video did to the girl? Is it – is it going to – to _lay its young inside him_?

What if its sperm is like frogspawn? What if it's like ants? What if it's like tiny tentacle creatures, all squirming about inside him, filling his throat and his cock and his ass –?

Charles comes all over again, so hard he actually does black out for a few seconds. When he comes to, it feels like fluid is pumping out of those three tentacles, flooding into him in great gushes – he splutters and chokes around the one in his mouth, biting at it, chomping down as hard as he can and grinding his teeth for good measure.

A ripple goes through the tentacle in his throat and it retreats – it retreats! – and he’s left to cough and splutter and choke, spitting out as much of the stuff as he can. It doesn’t seem to have a flavour, which he’s immensely grateful for, but his thighs are sticky and his ass and his cock are aching, and the creature is pulling out of him –

It’s pulling out of him!

It’s also retreating, withdrawing the tentacles from around his cold and violently shaking body, dragging them back into the hole. The horrible mouth disappearing and then the eye.

It’s not even looking at him any more as it leaves. It’s like now it’s filled him with its – whatever the stuff is – it doesn’t even care about him.

Who’s he kidding? He’s been nothing to it all along – he doesn’t want to be anything to it. Except –

Pushing himself up awkwardly on trembling limbs, Charles forces himself to look down at his cock, as he scrabbles around behind him to grope reluctantly at his sticky ass.

His suspicion is confirmed correct immediately. The creature’s plugged his slit and hole with something, like a hard version of the liquid it secreted. _Its come is stuck inside him._

His reddened, sore soft cock is thicker than it should be, filled with the stuff. His hole feels unpleasantly full, the pressure of the liquid pushing up against his prostate. The plug holding his slit closed is solid and unyielding when he makes himself try to pick at it, hesitantly at first and then with increasing panic.

“Fuck – _fuck_ – oh fuck –” So it did lay its – whatever – in him. Its young. Future baby tentacle monsters. This isn’t something he can ask for his parents’ help about, is it. He’d never survive the humiliation of telling them. Carlos – Carlos would laugh himself sick, the bastard.

Charles collapses back amongst the slimy wet mess now dirtying his attic room floor, aware that the summoning circle has darkened, nothing more than scuffed chalk on the floorboards.

What the hell is he going to do?


End file.
